Double Standards

By Richard Bingy Brown

At the center of this intricate fable that sizzles with sex and Browns signature blend of fact
and fi ction, are men and women who dare to examine the deepest chambers of the heart
and psyche. There is strong-willed, 29-year-old Soneyah; the feisty Sylvia; Shevaughn,
whose love and devotion to her husband did not spare her 10-year marriage from the pain
of infi delity; Asia, a 24-year old single mother of two and Rosemary, whose adolescence
marred by sexual abuse makes it almost impossible for her trust men. These women
are uniquely different but they are bound to one another by their negative experiences
with men and their determination to give their male counterparts a taste of their own
medicine.
On another layer of the story are four men, Rayman, Luke, Knuckles and Hives, who
will not let anything get in the way of their faithlessness and womanizing- even their own
partners. The end of their odyssey of discovery will reveal to each character unexpected
destinies and a stunning truth about themselves and those they love.
Witty, sharp and thoroughly engaging, Double Standards is a searing story of life peopled
by broken yet real souls on the road to discovering redemption and what it truly means
to love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Oct 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469195926

Richard Bingy Brown

Richard ‘Bingy’ Brown had been self employed for many years, involved in various businesses such as Clothing Retail, Concert Promoter, Caribbean Restaurant and Night Club owner amongst other things. He discovered his passion for writing as a young teenager, writing poems and then songs which he performed on his local sound system under the moniker Bingy. Whilst doing a long prison sentence between 2001 – 2007 he studied continuously, achieving top level qualification in Computers, Business Studies, Black History, Psychology, Journalism and Teaching. After completing a creative writing course he decided to write a fictional novel based on his own true life experiences resulting in Living The Dream. Now at 47 and having many interesting ideas for future novels he has decided to take up writing full-time, his aim is to be a bestselling author.

Book preview

DOUBLE

STANDARDS

Richard Bingy Brown

Copyright © 2012 by Richard Bingy Brown.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2012906150

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4691-9591-9

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4691-9590-2

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4691-9592-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 02/26/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

0-800-644-6988

www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk

[e-mail]

303831

Contents

Acknowledgement

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Six

Chapter Forty-Seven

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Nine

Chapter Fifty

Chapter Fifty-One

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Three

Chapter Fifty-Four

Chapter Fifty-Five

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty-One

Chapter Sixty-Two

Epilogue

Acknowledgement

It’s a blessing once again to see my writing published for others to read and hopefully enjoy. After the joy of seeing my first book Living The Dream published I give thanks to Jah almighty for his guidance! Like I have said before, my aim is to enhance my writing skills and be a best selling author!

I also have to again thank my family, love-ones and friends for their encouragements, ideas and support throughout writing this book. A special thank you goes to my daughters Kisha and Delene along with Mikey Warrior for modelling on the front cover and to Tammy Fogarty for taking the picture. I couldn’t have done it without them.

Prologue

Shevaughn made her friends laugh when she made a comment about her boobs looking saggy. She dismissed Sylvia’s suggestion of getting a boob job. ‘Not me. I’d rather use my four or six thousand pounds on something else,’ she told her friends. Today was a female-bonding session, something they promised to have every month. Their regular get-together was a time to talk and share any problems they had and try to solve them together. It was also a time for concerned and unconcerned chit-chat. A time to gossip, talk about the future, and what it may hold. They would give or take advice about a problem or situation. They were never bitchy, judgemental, or inconsiderate, just helpful. That’s what good friends are for, and these were a fine example of what true friendship involves.

‘Listen, Shevaughn, most of those Yardies come over here, fill up the stupid English gyal heads with rubbish, saying how much they love them and want to marry them, and they take it all in. Soon as they get married and get their papers sorted, they send for their baby-mothers who are waiting back in Jamaica,’ Sylvia explained.

They were all sitting around the dining table, each giving their own opinions about Eve’s wedding coming up. None of them had anything good to say; as far as they were concerned, the marriage was doomed before it even started and would surely end in tears, and they all knew who would need the tissues.

‘I’m sure some of them must be genuine. They can’t all be doing that,’ Shevaughn said as she was taking out plates to serve dinner.

Soneyah leaned back in her seat, folded her arms across her breast, and was amazed by Shevaughn’s words. ‘Did I hear right? Did I just hear Shevaughn say they can’t all be the same?’

‘Yes, you did,’ Asia answered.

Shevaughn turned to face her friends sitting at the table, with two plates in her hand. ‘What I’m trying to say is, not all Yardy guys are the same.’ She started to set the table. ‘They can’t all come over just to get married and send for their baby-mothers back in Jamaica. Some must be genuine.’

Sylvia jumped up; helping Shevaughn to set the table, she defended her beliefs. ‘Come on, Shevaughn! Think about it. How come they’ve had so many women back in Jamaica and none of them had the urge to get married? And as soon as they come over here and meet an English woman who can help them get their stay, they want to get married straight away. What’s that’s all about?’

Asia went and stood next to Shevaughn and linked her arm around Shevaughn’s arm. ‘I’m backing Shevaughn on this one because I don’t think they’re all the same either. Are all English girls the same?’

‘No!’ Soneyah, Sylvia, Patra, and Rosemary, all answered in unison.

‘So why do you think all Yardies are the same?’ Asia laughed.

‘Okay, you’ve made your point. So they’re not all the same, just 99.9 per cent of them are,’ Soneyah replied cheekily.

Asia took a seat after helping to set the table. ‘Soneyah, your experiences with Yardies have not been a good one, so you’re not going to say anything positive about any of them.’

‘Her experience with man has not been good, full-stop, never mind Yard-man,’ Patra laughed.

‘You’re right there,’ Sylvia agreed.

‘But it’s not just Yardies, is it? It’s man on the whole who is the problem,’ Rosemary said. Her voice was low, placid, and passionate. ‘They can all be bastards when you think about it.’

Shevaughn started to dish out dinner for the children as Rosemary carried on with her opinions on the subject. ‘At the end of the day, man is man, whether Jamaican, Kittitian, Bajan, English, or African, all of them have one thing in common.’ Everyone looked at Rosemary. ‘None of them can stay faithful to one woman, no matter how they do love their woman. Even if they want to stay faithful, let a woman put it on a plate in front of them, and they will never resist it. That’s a fact!’

‘It’s true. Asia, call the kids, please,’ Shevaughn said.

Asia got up from around the table and left the room and made a loud call from the bottom of the stairs. The children all came sprinting down and sat quietly around the table and tucked into their rice and peas, chicken, and macaroni cheese with salad. Shevaughn shared dinner for her friends, and they left the children eating in the kitchen and went into the lounge to eat and finish their talk in private.

Sylvia pushed a piece of chicken into her mouth, chewed and swallowed and continued the conversation where they had left it. ‘Going back to what Rosemary said earlier, it is true. Man will always stray when given the opportunity, fact is fact.’

‘I think so as well,’ Soneyah agreed.

Asia scooped a fork full of rice into her mouth. ‘So you don’t think a man can be totally faithful to one woman?’

All her friends looked at her. ‘Come on, Asia, wake up. We had this conversation this morning. You, of all people, should know that. Look how you caught your man, in your bed, with a white woman,’ Sylvia reminded. ‘Like I said before, he might be my brother, but he’s still a darg!’

‘I know but…’

‘There’s no but in this conversation unless its, but all men are dargs,’ Rosemary told her cousin.

Asia looked directly at her cousin. ‘So does all men include your father and my father because they’re also men?’

Especially your father, Rosemary wanted to say. She wanted to tell all right there and then. Exposed the depths that a man can go to by raping his own niece, but she held back. It was not the time and definitely not the place ‘I won’t swear by my father, can you swear by yours?’

‘Let’s not talk about my father. He hasn’t even talked to me for years.’

‘I want a man like your Jacob, Patra. He’s totally committed to you and the children, isn’t he?’ Asia said.

Patra took a sip from her pineapple juice before answering. ‘He’s got his faults but he’s all right. We’ve had our ups and downs like most people and came through them.’

‘Do you think you will get married?’ Sylvia asked.

‘Well, we’ve been engaged for three years, so I’m hoping it happens soon,’ Patra said, full of optimism.

‘Is there anything you would like to change about him?’ Asia asked.

‘I would like him to spend more time at home with me, instead of being in Africa with his friends most of the time.’

‘But he is doing what he is doing over there for you and the children, isn’t he?’ Shevaughn said.

‘Yeah I know, but sometimes I get lonely and would rather if he was at home with me.’

‘You see, even when a woman has a good man who is building a foundation for his family, it can still be a problem,’ Sylvia laughed.

‘I suppose we always find something to complain about. That’s just part of being a woman,’ Soneyah said.

‘I think Patra should think she is very lucky that she has a man who does not fuck about,’ Sylvia added. ‘A man like Jacob who used to be a womaniser and changes to please his woman has got to be a good thing.’

‘Maybe I am lucky, but it doesn’t mean I’m totally happy. Maybe I would just rather have my man be at home with me to give me some love and affection when I need it.’

‘He’s at home now, isn’t he?’ Shevaughn said.

‘Yes, but he’ll be off again soon,’ Patra said.

‘When that mansion is built in Africa and you’re married and over there, living it up, you will say all those lonely nights were worth it. In life, we have to make certain sacrifices to get what we want sometimes,’ Asia said, with a smile.

They soon finished their dinner and cleaned up. Sylvia and Asia took their children home, got them into bed, and after their babysitters turned up, they returned back to Shevaughn’s house. There, they all sat down to watch the Jamaican gangster movie, Shottas, with a bottle of brandy, Southern Comfort, and a quarter-ounce of good Jamaican weed.

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Beverley listened keenly and was not happy. She was sick of hearing Luke’s name being linked with another woman yet again. She had woken up in the morning and done the house chores and was just doing her weekly shopping in the supermarket when she had seen one of her school friends. It was so embarrassing when you have to hear your partner is sleeping with another woman.

‘I seen him with my own eyes, Beverley! He was sat in his car outside the New Hype and him and the girl was up close and personal. He didn’t see me, and I just thought any time I see you I would tell you.’

‘Really, what did the girl look like?’

‘I’d say she was about eighteen, nineteen, light-skin, slim, but I can’t say how tall she was because she was sat down in his car.’

Beverley had heard about the same girl before; well, the description surely fitted the same person that she had heard about two, three months earlier. The same girl who Luke had totally denied and said, ‘Does it mean I am sleeping with a woman just because one of your stupid jealous friends seen me talking to them?’ She was fed up with Luke and his player ways. But she wanted the direct proof; hopefully one day she would catch him red-handed, and he would not be able to deny it.

After chatting about old times, she soon said bye to her friend and went on to complete her shopping. Whilst walking around the supermarket, she tried to put what she had just heard to the back of her mind for the time being, but it was hard; Luke was taking her for a fool, and she did not like it. However, love him or not, if she could get hard evidence, she would have to end their relationship, regardless of the hurt she would feel. Beverley soon arrived home, and as she was packing away the shopping, Luke entered the kitchen, sneaked up behind her, held her around the waist, and kissed her on the neck tenderly. She wanted to pull away, but she didn’t and played the fool. She knew it was pointless to mention what she had heard earlier in the day because she knew the answer already.

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Rayman slid himself out of his bed quietly; he looked at last night’s catch deep in sleep before grabbing his T-shirt and jogging bottoms and heading for the kitchen. After putting on the kettle, he built himself a well-needed spliff. He thought back to last night when he had watched the pretty girl walk into the toilet in the New Hype night club and thought, mi have to get dat into my bed tonight. So said so done; a couple of sweet lyrics and a few drinks later, Annette was spread out naked in his bed whilst he sexed her wildly.

Another of the many girls he had managed to get into his bed by any means necessary! He smiled and took a long pull from his spliff and poured hot water into a cup before adding a peppermint tea bag and two spoons of sugar. He was so pleased with himself and always was after a good catch, and Annette was more than just a good catch.

‘What time is? I can’t understand why my head is pounding like crazy. I must have had too much to drink last night,’ Annette said as she walked into the living room, holding her clothes over her arm. ‘How comes I ended up naked in your bed?’

‘Why woman always drink till dem can’t remember the sweetness dem get,’ Rayman replied.

‘So we had sex! I hope you used a condom? I’m never drinking again. Where is the toilet? I want to use it and go home.’

Rayman pointed her in the right direction and smirked.

Chapter One

Bank Holiday—25 August 2003

It had just turned two o’clock in the afternoon, and the massive park was overflowing with colourfully dressed carnival ravers. Thankfully the sun had exposed its generosity by beaming down its eighty-degree rays upon the grateful carnival crowd beneath it. It had turned out just the way the weather forecasters had predicted. Oh, what a joy! The carnival would not have the right vibe without the wonderful presence of the sun; it brought a feel of the Caribbean and made a glow of happiness shine on most people’s face. The day had turned out so much better than the year before. Last year’s weather had been a real disappointment; it had rained most of the day, making the massive park turn into a sea of muddy slush, making most people feel horrible and miserable.

This year’s event had turned out to be a lovely day; Bill Withers’s hit tune came to mind. It was just like the weather man had said, and there was more to come. The carnival procession, with its colourful floats, had not too long arrived at the park. Each one of the floats had an array of beautiful women, dressed in their colourfully dressed costumes, designed especially for the day’s event. The crowd was multicultural; people from near and far were laughing and enjoying themselves together. Birmingham, Liverpool, Sheffield, Manchester, Oldham, Bolton, Huddersfield, Bradford—almost every major town and city was represented to the max. The annual Leeds Carnival was fully on its way; it was going to be a fantastic day.

Steelpan players played familiar tunes with that traditional calypso vibe. And some of the revellers, who were dressed up in their specially made costumes, jucked, jammed, whined, wiggled, and calypsoed themselves in the typical manner that the Caribbean Carnival expected its ravers to behave. A police helicopter hovered high in the clear blue sky, monitoring the joyous crowd beneath it, looking out for any trouble.

It was true; the Leeds Carnival was becoming bigger and bigger each year. The smell of barbequed-jerked chicken, Jamaican style, was carried around the park with the help of the slightly cool August breeze, straight to the noses of the hungry and peckish. The many food vendors scattered around the park, all looked to be very busy supplying the tens of thousands of people with traditional Caribbean cuisines. Vendors of clothing, music, posters, arts, and crafts had arrived bright and early in the morning hoping to get that ideal selling location. Lots of money could be made from the estimated 150,000 people that were expected to pass through the year’s most exciting event, and getting the right spot was crucial.

From the top of the crowded hill, Shevaughn, Asia, and Rosemary looked down on to the mass of bodies, enjoying themselves. ‘Where are Sylvia and Soneyah? They’ve been gone for ages,’ Shevaughn enquired.

‘They said they were going to check out the sound system up by the basketball court,’ Rosemary answered. ‘Right now, I could do with something to eat. The smell of food has opened my taste buds.’

‘That makes two of us. My stomach’s been going on bad,’ Shevaughn replied, rubbing her stomach suggestively. ‘It’s been grumbling for the past half hour.’

Asia looked over in the direction of the basketball court. Struggling to see over the mass of heads in front of her, she had to extend herself by balancing on her toes. This gave her an extra three inches in height and an improved view. ‘I think we should go look for them.’ She said, still looking in the direction of the basketball court.

‘We can’t move from here. What if they come back from a different direction and don’t see us?’ Rosemary’s voice was a little bit concerned.

‘I know what. I’ll wait here and you two go look for them,’ Shevaughn suggested. ‘And if they come back, someone will be here.’

‘No one has to go anywhere. I can see them coming back,’ Asia informed.

Now we can go get something to eat, Rosemary thought.

‘Mummy, Mummy, look what Aunty Sylvia bought us,’ Asia’s little son said, before blowing hard into a whistle.

His three-year-old twin sisters joined in, followed by Sylvia’s twelve-year-old daughter. Shevaughn’s two little boys made up the noisy whistling crew, to the annoyance of Shevaughn.

‘Flipping heck, Sylvia, why did you have to go and buy them all whistles?’ Shevaughn said, putting her fingers in her ears. ‘This is why I didn’t want to buy any for them earlier.’

Sylvia put a whistle she had hanging around her neck in to her mouth and started to blow into it. Once again, this set off the children to blow their whistles, now making Asia and Rosemary join Shevaughn by putting their fingers into their ears.

‘You’re not easy, you,’ Rosemary told Sylvia.

Sylvia was now blowing her whistle and dancing around with one of Asia’s twin daughters in her arm.

‘Listen, I don’t know about you lot, but I come to enjoy myself and let myself go. What’s wrong? It’s carnival time!’ Sylvia said as she whined and wiggled herself, blowing hard and long into her whistle.

Soneyah, who had taken hold of Asia’s other twin daughter, also started to move her waist to the music, blowing into the whistle she also had around her neck.

‘I’m with you, Syl,’ she said. ‘Blow ya whistles… blow ya whistles.’

Sylvia’s twelve-year-old daughter started to show her whining skills as the three boys jumped around, making as much noise as they could by blowing into their whistles.

‘If we can’t beat them, let’s join them,’ Asia said, grabbing hold of her son’s hand and thrusting her pelvis like a professional dancer.

Rosemary and Shevaughn agreed. Rosemary grabbed Shevaughn’s youngest son and Shevaughn grabbed hold of her oldest and they all danced to the pumping sound of the calypso sound coming from the massive PA system.

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Beverley Summers was feeling the pressures of walking around for five hours. Her feet had started to hurt painfully. Her toes were now very upset with the shoes she had on: they were squeezing them mercilessly. Luke was beginning to get vexed and frustrated with his woman’s continuous nagging and complains about her feet but kept his vexation within. He had come to enjoy the carnival vibes and not listen to the continuous complaints from his woman about her feet.

‘Luke, I need to sit down again. My feet are killing me,’ Beverley’s voice was full of anguish. ‘Luke, slow down. I said I need to rest my feet.’

Why the fuck didn’t you wear something more comfortable then? he thought. He stopped, turned around, and walked back towards her.

‘Why didn’t you wear something more comfortable, babes?’ His voice was full of concern, but inside, he really wanted to tell her to shut the fuck up and fuck off home! ‘You knew we would have been walking around and standing up most of the time, babes.’

‘I told you this is the first time I’ve worn these shoes. When I put them on this morning, they felt okay, so what’s your problem?’ She went to lean up against a tree and removed her shoes; she stood on them so she did not have to stand on the dirty ground. She felt better now that she had relieved her toes.

‘Let’s go back to Black’s stall, and you can sit down there,’ his voice was soft and caring. Doing his best to hide his true feelings of being really and truly fed up with her. Why did I come with her? I should have told her to come with her friends, he thought. All she has done all day is complain about her fucking feet, never again!

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‘Rayman, see yu sparrin’ partner ah come wid him wife,’ Blacks said, dishing out a plate of food for another one of his many customers of the day.

Rayman scooped the last piece of curry goat into his mouth as he looked in the direction to where Blacks had indicated. He then threw the empty paper plate into a bin that was tied to the big white transit van that Blacks had used to transport his belongings to the carnival. He then took out a white handkerchief from his jeans pocket and wiped his hands and mouth.

‘Yow, Blacks, sell me ah Heineken,’ Rayman said, replacing the handkerchief back into his back jeans pocket.

‘Yes, fam, wha’appen?’ Luke greeted Rayman with an outstretched fist. ‘Yes, Blacks, can my woman sit down on your chair to rest her feet for a couple of minutes?’

‘Yes, man, no problem. Come ‘round here, princess, and sit down over there for as long as yu want,’ he said kind-heartedly, directing Beverley to a green garden chair.

Beverley squeezed past two tables that were being used as barriers and took a gratifying seat. She immediately removed her shoes and freed her poor toes once again from the discomfort; it felt so good.

‘Yes, Luke, girls deh ya like sand to match every man,’ Rayman said as a group of girls walked past. He made sure to keep his voice at a level so that Beverley could not hear his remark.

‘Fam, I don’t know why I come here with her, trust me!’ He looked over at Beverley, who was now busy massaging her feet. ‘All she do is complain about her shoes squeezing her toes. Da amount of gyal I see today that I could ah cherps! Jah know!’

‘Serious t’ing, rudebwoy. But tonight ah go be de lick, de New Hype ah go ram with pussy, serious!’ Rayman said, taking a sip from his bottle of Heineken.

Luke nodded his head at the thought. ‘Yes, I know, and I have a date with a nice dainty t’ing I did meet da other night. I hope Beverley doesn’t want to go out, or I’m fucked!’

Rayman laughed lightly.

Luke laughed. ‘Listen, fam, do you have any stone left?’

‘Yes, fam, yu know seh I never run out. Yu want piece?’

‘Yes, da dainty t’ing think seh she bad in ah bed, and I want to give her de proper agony.’

Rayman dipped into his pocket and took out a small wrapper of Clingfilm, unwrapped it, and gave his best friend a piece of its contents.

‘Listen, rudebwoy, don’t make de same mistake like last time. Make sure yu ah get de pussy first and don’t rub too much on, seen!’ Rayman laughed.

‘Don’t worry about that. I have a bottle of da good juice.’

‘Ah, and it never fail to make ah gyal give it up, eh!’

‘You know dat, fam! But I don’t think I will need to spike her because she ready to give it up.’

Rayman laughed lightly, revealing his gold tooth with a diamond embedded in it. ‘Link me up later, fam. Me ah go try find Knuckles and Hives.’

Another posse of girls pushed past them to get to Black’s counter and ordered some food. Luke looked over at Beverley to make sure she was not looking before giving one of the girls a flirtatious smile.

‘The last time I seen dem, they were up by da basketball court wid dem gyal from Little London,’ Luke informed. ‘You remember dem four who go on like dem bad!’

Rayman turned the Heineken bottle to his head and downed what remained in the bottle and threw it into the bin.

‘Dem four facesty gyal who go on like dem ah top gyal?’

‘Yes. Mi did have to dodge dem. No way did I want dem to see mi wid Beverley.’

‘Hear wha’? Me ah go look for Knuckles and Hives. I want ah fuck off ah one ah dem gyal, Jah know! Especially de short one wid de big bumper! I want to stone up de soldier and ram out her belly and teach dem seh bad man nu play,’ Rayman said, with an outstretched fist.

‘Yes, bad man, check yu laters,’ Luke laughed.

Rayman shouted out to Blacks and then to Beverley as he walked off in the direction towards the basketball court. Luke walked over to join Beverley. The expression on her face said she was tired and ready to go home, and Luke could feel it.

‘How are your feet now, babes, feeling better?’ Luke’s voice was caring.

‘They feel a lot better. I’m ready to go home now if you are.’

I knew it, never again. Ready, I’m not ready, but neither do I want to stay here any longer and listen to your complaints about your feet hurting. He wanted to speak out aloud, best not, because he knew it would only lead to a major league argument.

‘Okay, babes. Come on, let’s go home then,’ he said, taking her hand. ‘Yow, Blacks, I’m out of here.’

‘Thank you very much for letting me sit down,’ Beverley said, her voice was full of genuine gratitude.

‘No problem, it was my pleasure. You two take it easy now,’ Blacks said, whilst serving two female customers.

‘Byee,’ Beverley replied.

‘Yes, bad man, laters,’ Luke added.

‘Yes, later. Check yu ah de New Hype later,’ Blacks shouted.

Luke and Beverley walked off in the direction of Roundhay Road, where Luke had parked his car.

Chapter Two

‘So where you going tonight then?’ Beverley asked, knowing that the answer she was going to get was going to be a lie anyway. Luke had been acting very suspiciously lately, and he was telling her lies constantly. She had a gut feeling he had another woman: her womanly instincts had told her this. Nothing she didn’t expect, after all, he was a man, and the only thing she wanted was concrete evidence. One thing she had noticed earlier in the day is the way he had been so uneasy and acting suspiciously at the carnival. She had also noticed how he had purposely avoided going over to speak to two of his closest friends, Knuckles and Hives, when he saw them talking to four girls. She wasn’t stupid; one of those girls must have been one of his bitches.

‘Me and Rayman are going to the New Hype,’ Luke answered, looking at himself in the mirror to make sure he looked good for this night’s mission. He always looked good, dressed in top designer wear.

She carried on with her ironing. I know that, but which girl are you going to fuck tonight? She thought and wanted to ask. But she wouldn’t say that; she was too tactful. Beverley Summers, at twenty-four, was young, the ideal career woman. She was the type of woman that any sensible black man would want and would feel very proud to have linked to his arm. At five-feet five inches, she was not that tall. But she looked much taller because of her upright posture. She carried herself gracefully, never slouched, whether sitting or walking. She could have easily been a top model, giving Naomi Campbell a run for her money, but she had chosen a career in law. She was so arrogantly elegant. Her hair was cut short and suited her rooted African features, broad nose, with full sensual lips. She was naturally graced with beauty. At nine stone ten, she often complained she was too fat; in truth, she was not far from being perfectly shaped.

She had been with Luke for three years—her second boyfriend in her dating career, which was good compared to nowadays standards of dating. Most girls around her age in this day and age would more than likely have had quite a few relationships. Not Beverley Summers; she was one of the few girls who were more interested in getting a positive career started, and no man was going to distract her. But as usual, just like the previous relationship she had been in, the present man was more problem than he was worth.

She was clean, very house-proud, a very good cook, and sure knew how to look after a man. And didn’t Luke know it? Tonight, regardless of the way she was feeling towards Luke, she had run his bath, washed his back, oiled his skin from face to toes, ironed all his clothes, and cooked his favourite macaroni cheese with chicken wings and salad.

Luke Winan was also twenty-four. Tall, dark, slim, and handsome, and didn’t he know it? He talked with the attitude that he could have any girl he wanted, and he sure did try proving he could at any given opportunity. His always clean-shaven face showed off his boyish looks, making him look much younger than he actually was. His six-inch afro was always neatly styled in kanerows, but tonight, Beverley had plaited it for him. Luke was among the developing group of the stereo-typical young black male that lived for money, music, women, and weed. Their main interest is to dress to impress in the latest designer labels, roll in the slickest car, and be the talk of the town.

Born in Leeds to a St Kitts mother and Jamaican father, Luke moved with a small group of Jamaican-born men who had recently arrived in the area, fresh from the hot island of his father’s birth. Beverley had come to the conclusion that the nice, thoughtful, and honest young man who she had fallen in love with three years earlier had changed dramatically since he started moving with Yardies. As far as she was concerned, he had changed in his actions, attitude, and the way he talked, and the way he thought was so different. He had developed a rudeboy swagger. She had told him many times that she did not want a rudeboy but a good boy!

Luke knew he had a good woman, and most men often do. He knew he had his bread buttered on two sides with the finest. The mistake he was making, just like many other men, he didn’t appreciate the fact that he had a good woman. He took her for granted, always thought she would be there, regardless. He would only realise what he had if she was gone, gone straight into another man’s arms, making another man happy, instead of him. Like they say, ‘You never know a good thing until it’s gone!’ Luke was lost in his own macho world, thinking that no woman would or could leave him because he was so ‘cool’. No woman could leave him, not him, he was much too special. How could she leave the good bed-work he was giving her? And Beverley loved him too much to even contemplate it; well, so he thought.

Beverley was in her last year at the university, studying law. Five hard years of studying was nearly completed, and then she would be a junior criminal barrister. Her childhood ambitions of being a top defence barrister were not far away. She definitely had the abilities and the skills, and with a man like Luke, she often had to use her natural womanly instincts, mixed with her lawyer skills to catch him out. And catch him out she did, on so many occasions. Recently she’d been putting her lawyer skills to the test, smartly questioning Luke and taking note of his answers. She would then ask him the same question at a later date, only for him to give a different reply.

She’d seen the change in his actions and behaviour and was observing him quietly. Something was going on, and she was going to find out. She wasn’t stupid or paranoid as Luke had suggested. Why else would a man leave the room when his mobile phone rang, getting regular text messages and he try to read them discreetly? A few weeks ago, she had caught him out big time, and he didn’t even realise his mistake, but she did. She’d decided on not saying anything to him; he would only deny it and make it look like she was being paranoid. She was more than sure he was seeing some other woman or even women. More than one person had told her about him, but any time she’d confront him, he would deny it and get annoyed. So best she just wait; she was more than sure he would slip up so she could confront him with concrete evidence and not hearsay.

Men who played around often slip up anyway; he had before and will again. One particular night, she’d gotten his clothes ready for him to go out, distinctly putting out his white Calvin Klein boxers and watched him put them on, only for him to come home early the next morning, wearing a pair of cheap black boxers. She’d never seen these boxers before. Obviously, he’d been to some woman’s house, done his thing, and put on these boxers that the woman had more than likely bought for him.

Beverley was smart and decided not to mention the boxers. She knew better, he would resort to his normal thing and try belittling her intelligence by telling her she was being stupid and was getting paranoid. She had enough evidence to send him down Unfaithful Avenue, with all his belongings in a couple of plastic bags. But she was waiting for the right moment; she wanted to catch him out good and proper! Have him cornered so he could not escape. She thought it was about time she gave him some stress.

‘So how come you haven’t asked me if I want to come out with you?’ Beverley asked. Her voice was low and soft. ‘You never seem to take me out any more.’ I know why you don’t, but let’s hear what you’ve got to say for yourself, she thought.

Luke sensed the bait. She’d been going on strange since she’d heard more gossip about him seeing someone. She was definitely fishing, so he would have to swim carefully.

‘What do you mean, babes? I do take you out. I took you to go watch the Matrix the other week?’ he said and looked at his watch, which displayed eleven o’clock.

Beverley put her recently ironed blouse on to a hanger and put it away in her wardrobe.

‘You keep looking at your watch, are you going to be late to meet whoever?’ she said sarcastically, but Luke didn’t answer. ‘As for you taking me to the pictures the other day, don’t you mean the other month? And then I had to argue with you to take me, and all you did was sulk all the way through the movie.’

‘That’s because the movie was crap, and I told you that before we went.’ Again he checked his watch instinctively.

‘Yes, and we know why it was boring for you because you more than likely already took some other woman to see it before me,’ her voice was calm.

‘Here we go again! Every time I get ready to go out, you come off with some paranoia t’ing. All right then, get dressed, let’s go out. We’re going to the New Hype,’ he bluffed.

‘You think you’re smart, don’t you? You know I won’t go there.’

‘So why are you complaining, Beverley? I tell you to get dressed to go out, and you say you don’t like where I’m going.’ He walked up behind her and put his hands around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. She carried on ironing. ‘Listen, babes, I love you and you alone. I swear there is no one else, trust me.’

She smiled. Who do you think I am? If there is no one else, my name is Queen Nefertiti, she thought. I should have said yes to going to the New Hype and seen what you would have done then.

‘Listen, babes, we’ll go out next weekend to somewhere you want to go, okay?’ he promised. ‘I’m just going to the New Hype with Rayman, Knuckles, and Hives. I’m supposed to meet them on the front line at twelve.’

‘It’s okay, Luke, you don’t have to feel guilty. Go enjoy yourself.’

Again he checked his watch and kissed her on the cheek, said laters and ran downstairs and out of the front door. Beverley carried on with her ironing, realising that her relationship with Luke was heading for a painful death.

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Luke swung his car around. U-turning the car perfectly, he parked right in front of his young carnival date. He leaned over and opened the passenger door, and in jumped Leslie, a forward pretty black eighteen-year-old. She had extremely long legs and was wearing an extremely short skirt, which she had to struggle with to stop it from raising up as she got in to the car.

‘Do you know how long I’ve been waiting here for you? You manz don’t know anything about punctuality,’ she said, chewing on gum wildly. ‘I’m not one of those idiot gyal you know!’

‘Sorry, babes. I had to go see my mother. She isn’t feeling well,’ he lied. ‘Anyway I’m here now, so give me a kiss, and let’s go enjoy ourselves.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I was complaining.’ Her voice was low, soft, and apologetic. ‘I hope your mother is all right.’ She squeezed his thigh and kissed him and gave him an apologetic stare.

Luke pushed the gear stick into gear and drove off in the direction of the New Hype Night Club. He thought about Beverley and